Aperitif

How would you feel about coming to me in a coat over nothing but bare skin?.. Gloves, stockings, high heels, a garter belt are allowed. And a little hat, if you like.

A taxi will pick you up from your entrance. You’ll settle into the back seat.

The driver will occasionally glance at you. You’ll rarely smile — that mysterious Mona Lisa smile. He might even try to strike up a conversation about something trivial, the weather, perhaps. You’ll smile again, but you won’t even look at him. You’ll simply say:

“Just do your job.”

April is still gathering strength. The evening air is intoxicating. A recent rain has washed and refreshed the city. The lindens are in bloom; their scent mingles with the sharp petrichor and becomes brighter.

The car moves along the still-wet road after a brief spring shower. The tires whisper about something pleasant, like spring itself.

At last the car stops, and you slip out of the cabin as if from a cage, leaving the scent of your perfume as a souvenir for the driver. A short path, the door.

You enter the building. The elevator carries you up to my floor. No need to ring — the door is open. I’m waiting for you. You cross the threshold, and I close it at once, cutting us off from the world.

I take your hat; your gloves settle into it. After placing the hat on the dressing table, I help you out of the coat. You remain completely naked except for the stockings and high-heeled shoes… Ah yes, and the choker around your neck.

“I turned eighteen,” you remind me, as if I could have forgotten. “We agreed that on this day you would fuck me.”

I admire you as if for the first time. If I were a sculptor, I could not find a better model for a goddess than you.

Not tall, but with long, slender legs whose shape is emphasized by the dark nylon of the stockings. Wide hips, a pubis covered in a curly chaos of hair. A narrow waist, a firm flat belly, and above it — full, firm breasts a little larger than average, with small nipples. Thin but by no means skinny arms; beneath the smooth pale skin one feels rather than sees the soft relief of muscle.

In the mirror I see the reflection of your bottom — firm, toned, and at the same time pleasantly feminine in its fullness.